


AKA I Love You

by pumpkinscript



Category: Jessica Jones (TV)
Genre: Angst, F/M, Fluff, Happy Ending, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, Implied/Referenced Torture, Jessica Jones - Freeform, Kilgrave - Freeform, Purple, Smut, netflix, purple man - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-03
Updated: 2019-08-03
Packaged: 2020-07-30 04:54:22
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,779
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20091592
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pumpkinscript/pseuds/pumpkinscript
Summary: He sighed, running his hand though his hair. "You told your friend, Aubrey, that you wanted to stay with me. Is that something you actually want?" The volume of his voice dropped. He was positively brimming with anticipation. He had never had anyone want to stay before.I took a step forward and a look of confusion crossed his face."What is this? What are you doing?"I reached up and ran my hand up the lapel of his deep purple suit. My other hand did the same thing. They snaked up around his neck and brushed the bottom of his hairline. I ran my hands back down to where they were and further down his suit. My right hand dipped lower and ran down the front of his pants. He tensed, and his lips pressed together. I stared straight up at him, and he stared back. He was bewildered, but desire radiated off of him like heat from tar.





	AKA I Love You

Hybristophilia is described as a paraphilia in which sexual arousal, facilitation, and attainment of orgasm are responsive to and contingent upon being with a partner known to have committed an outrage, cheating, lying, known infidelities, or crime—such as rape, murder, or armed robbery. The term is derived from the Greek word ὑβρίζειν hubrizein, meaning "to commit an outrage against someone" (ultimately derived from ὕβρις hubris "hubris"), and philo, meaning "having a strong affinity/preference for". In popular culture, this phenomenon is also known as "Bonnie and Clyde Syndrome", or, in my best friend's terms, just being a fucking idiot.

A fucking idiot. That's what she called me when I told her.

I still call her my best friend because I'm desperately holding onto the relationship we had before all of this happened... before he happened. I don't really think "best friend" is the right term for what we have now, though.

She hardly talks to me anymore. Every time I phone her, she either picks up for exactly three seconds (long enough to tell me to bugger off), or she sends me directly to voicemail. Lately, she's picked Option A. She seems to have a lot of anger in need of releasing, and yelling at me is somewhat justified... considering.

I hadn't been able to talk to her until that fateful day she showed up at my flat. It was our longest conversation yet. She came knocking on the door; she was there to drop off my mail, which gets sent to her house. My subscriptions used to get nicked all the time, but, since she lives on an actual piece of property (don't ask me where to find one as grandeur as hers in New York), we had decided, a long time ago, to have my mail sent there instead. She brought it by every Tuesday.

As soon as I heard the sharp sound of knuckle hitting wood, I shot up and leaped over to the door, hoping to catch her in time to have a word.

She was just turning when I opened the door. At this point, I hadn't seen her in a few weeks. It had felt more like months to me.

"Aubrey, please don't leave," I said quickly.

She turned and glared at me. "You're unbelievable."

"Please. Please hear me out," I begged her. I sounded so pathetic. Practically on my knees, begging my friend to lend an ear. Jesus.

She cocked a knee and crossed her arms, giving me a sour look. "What?" she barked. "Well? Go on then! Give me a statement as to why what you did to me was alright. You deserted me. Out of nowhere. And me, being the friend I am, I'm thinking, 'well, she's never done this before, I'll cut her some slack.' You finally come back, a month later. A month! I was left completely bloody clueless, sitting on my couch, trying to come up with some sort of rationalization and you come back! Out of the blue! Mind you, at first I was actually glad to have you back. You start explaining your absence to me and I listened."

"Bri, please, I—"

"No!" she spat and shook her finger at me, shaking with anger. "No! You said to me that you found someone. And guess what? I was happy for you! I was genuinely happy! Taking a month off without telling me, yeah, that was a shit move. But you found someone. What an amazing thing. I should know; my boyfriend can attest to that! Who was this man, I was wondering? 'Oh, no one,' you said! And of course, I didn't push it. Who was I to get all in your business if you didn't want me there? I was only your best friend who you told everything to! Well, almost everything."

"Aubrey—"

"Shut up! Just shut up and listen! I let you go off, back on your own again. I thought, she found a man, she was doing well, I won't hinder her. I waited about a week, and then, and then—" her eyes started welling up with involuntary tears as she spoke. "And then you appeared on my front step. You were soaked in blood. You had a gash right there on the front of your torso, (Y/N), and it was bleeding through your layers. A gash! You were cut! With a bloody knife! You come in, leaning on me, and I lay you down on my nice couch. It's a good thing my mum was a doctor or you'd have been dead meat! You remember? You bled out onto my couch! Blood, all over the place. Blood. I don't do blood, but I stomached it in order to help you!"

"And I'm grateful, but—"

"Goddamnit, (Y/N), let me finish!" Tears were voluntarily rolling down her face now. "You pass out on me and I'd thought you'd died. Died! But eventually you came round and started recounting what happened to you. You told me that the man who you were with had actually kidnapped you using, what did you call it?"

"Mind contr—"

"MIND CONTROL!" she laughed, unbelieving. "He told you to follow him, and you did. You followed him for a month! Then, right as you did something wrong, he stabbed you, ripe with insanity. I didn't believe it at first, so after you left, I did a little bit of research. Turns out, you weren't lying! This character actually was capable of mind control. Jesus, what a discovery! I was terrified for you! My best friend? In the hands of an all-powerful torturer? Just imagine the terror! You came back, maybe four weeks after that and we had a sit-down on my couch. I bloody scrubbed that thing for days, and it still wasn't perfect. We had a sit down and you told me about this man. You told me how he had assaulted you, hurt you, raped you. You told me how he had taken absolute control of your mind in every way."

Her expression shifted again. The tears stopped and she gave off pure rage. "You told me then, oh boy, you told me that, despite everything he did, you didn't want to leave him. And it wasn't mind control at this point, it was all you. You told me you wanted to stay with him. Can you even imagine? I remember calling you a fucking idiot. You were kidnapped by this psychopath and you were telling me you wanted to stay with him! I think I'm done now, so it'd be great if I could get a little bit of perspective from your point of view!"

I took a deep breath in and closed my eyes. "Aubrey." I opened them. "You won't understand. I can't explain it to you, I'm sorry. I'm staying with him."

"But why?!" The exasperation was clear on her face. 

"I can't tell you. I'm sorry."

Her arms fell to her sides and she stood, defeated. "(Y/N), I'm leaving now. Don't you dare contact me. Live your life." She threw her arms up in defeat and stroke off. 

I took a step forward, accidentally stepping on the letters she had left. I stooped down and picked them up, carrying them inside and shutting the door. I sighed heavily. 

Damnit, Aubrey.

The flat was dark in contrast to the brightly-lit LED hallway lights that Aubrey had been bathed in when I opened the door. It took my eyes a second to adjust when I turned back into the main room of my flat. 

Taking a step forward, I stopped when I spotted a figure sitting at my desk, legs propped up. Still too dark to see his face, I froze as my eyes finished adjusting.

It was him.

"Wondering when you were gonna realise I was here," his voice came from the shadows. He stood upright. "I heard that entire little exchange. I'm touched."

I didn't respond.

"Oh, come on," he laughed, making his way out from behind my desk and waltzing over to me. "You aren't under my influence anymore. You said that of your own accord. You genuinely want to stay with me? And, before you answer that question, I'm giving you the gift of free will. You aren't under my control right now."

I hesitated. "I..."

He sighed, running his hand though his hair. Any part of his face that suggested he was joking around had left. He wore a serious expression, now. "You told your friend, Aubrey, that you wanted to stay with me. Is that something you actually want?" The volume of his voice dropped. He was positively brimming with anticipation. He had never had anyone want to stay before.

I took a step forward and a look of confusion crossed his face.

"What is this? What are you doing?"

I reached up and ran my hand up the lapel of his deep purple suit. My other hand did the same thing. They snaked up around his neck and brushed the bottom of his hairline. I ran my hands back down to where they were before and further down his suit. My right hand dipped lower and ran down the front of his pants. He tensed, and his lips pressed together. I stared straight up at him, and he stared back. He was bewildered, but desire radiated off of him like heat from tar.

After roaming a minute longer, my hands found their way back up to his neck. His Adam's apple was bobbing up and down, he gulped, unsure of what to make of my actions. His breathing had sped up and his cheeks were cherry red from arousal as I made my way closer to him. 

I leaned closer and closer until my lips barely brushed his cheek. His eyes were still wide open in perplexity.

Once I drew back, he spoke again, ever so softly. 

"(Y/N)... truly. Why are you doing th-mmmff—"

I pressed my lips against his and held the back of his head, running my fingers through his soft hair. Suddenly, it was too much for him and he gave up, sighing into the kiss and closing his eyes; running his own hands through my hair. He tilted his head and I opened my mouth; my tongue slid over his. Sounds so soft they were almost silent made their way from his throat... sounds of restrained but intense emotion and satisfaction that you wouldn't hear unless you were listening closely. 

My hands glided down to his torso and I lightly guided him backwards towards the wall. He pushed against my arm and we switched positions; my back hit the paint as I continued kissing him. His hands rested on my waist as I felt along the front of his blazer, popping open the buttons and sliding it off his back. He let it fall to the floor, which was very uncharacteristic of him. Usually, he'd never let any of his clothes touch the ground. He cupped my face with one hand and kissed me harder, undoing my jacket buttons at the same time and letting my coat fall to the floor, as well.

I unzipped his pants as he unzipped mine. He slid his down only a bit, but mine, being big one me, fell down around my ankles. He slid his boxers down only a few inches and pushed my underwear down. 

He hoisted me up the wall and held me in place as he slid into me, causing the both of us to gasp. It didn't take me long to adjust to his length; I had done it before, after all. He bit my lip as he started thrusting, but then moved his mouth to my jawline and my neck, leaving dark bruises as he went. 

At that moment, his moaning was the most beautiful sound in the world. It was higher than his speaking voice and had a whine about it, giving off a very desperate sound. I exhaled loudly in time with his movements, and I knew hearing me turned him on even more.

He let me down onto my feet and we slipped fully out of our shoes and trousers, making our way over to the desk. 

I stood on my toes and hopped up on top of the wooden surface. He placed one hand on my shoulder and the other on my hip as he smoothly pushed into me again.

The rhythmic movements of his hips against mine and the sweet string of curses falling off his lips against my neck were overwhelmingly saccharine. He pulled my shirt and bra up and off as he thrust and rested a palm on my breast. I heard a SLAP! as the other hand, the one that had been on my shoulder, had fallen swiftly to the wood for support. He was hovering over my body; his usually neat hair had fallen in front of his face. I saw beads of sweat on his forehead as I wrapped my arms around his neck and brought him close to me. 

I kissed him a few times before I threw my head back and his lips reunited with the fragile skin of my neck. He kissed and licked at my jaw, moaning through it all. 

Then, his hands snaked behind my back and pressed me to him fully, picking me up and carrying me out of the main room and into the purple-Christmas-light-lit bedroom. The faint light from the city outside shone in through the window. He laid me softly down on the bed, climbing on top of me. I reached up and pushed him over so that I was over him, this time. I unbuttoned his shirt and finally pulled off the last piece of clothing between us, throwing it off the side of the bed. 

His eyes were dark with lust, and his lips had gone quiet as he stared up at me, a anticipating grin tugging at his expression. I leaned down and kissed him; a passionate, rough kiss. I took his length into my hand, monitoring his expressions as I did. His eyebrows would pinch as if he was upset over something, but his eyes would go wide with stimulation. His teeth would grind together, and every now and then, he'd take a sharp breath of air in and it would come out as a hiss. I pulled at him, making sure we held eye contact. 

Eyes. One of the most intimate parts of the human body. Eyes are the window to the soul... at least that's my mother used to tell me when I was younger. If you looked close enough, you'd be able to tell if someone was lying or telling the truth just by watching the dilation of their pupils. You could see their thoughts; their deepest fears. As I looked into his eyes, I saw emotions beyond what he put on display. I saw impatience, anger, lust... but I also saw hurt, sadness, and an overwhelming presence of loneliness.

My hand cupped his cheek and he leaned into my touch. It had probably been a long time (or maybe forever) since he had had consensual, voluntary sex with a woman, and the emotions playing on his face were evidence of that. He wanted to be wanted, to be valued, and to be loved. He could never force anyone to genuinely love him, which is why the relationships he had before were never satisfying. 

Suddenly, he pushed me over and he climbed on top, once again. He pushed into me again and thrust harder than he had before. 

Not long after he started, the desperate part of him took over and his movements became erratic. A very loud strand of moans and expletives were thrown into the air. Then, he thrust one last time, pulled out and breathlessly emptied himself onto my bare stomach.

I grabbed a spare tissue from the nightstand and wiped my torso clean, right before he collapsed on top of me. He was skinny and didn't weigh much, so I was still able to breathe while he was on top of me. His steady breathing next to my ear was enough to send me to sleep. I started to doze off, and then I heard his voice.

"Please," he murmured. "Why would you ever actually want to stay with me? I've hurt you."

I laid there for a minute longer before he propped himself up over me, so that he could see his face.

"Kilgrave..." I whispered, reaching up and touching his face. "I love you."

Unanticipated tears welled up in his eyes. "W-what?"

"I love you."

**Author's Note:**

> You can also find my works on my Wattpad account @pumpkinscript


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